


Appropriate Workplace Relationships

by Lacerta26



Series: Appropriate Workplace Relationships [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harry watches, Kinda, M/M, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 12:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15796710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta26/pseuds/Lacerta26
Summary: It was meant to be a basic recon mission but the number of active lines of inquiry meant that Roxy, Eggsy and Harry were all on the ground at once when everything went tits up. Their covers are blown and they have to make a mad dash in the middle of the night to an airfield for Merlin to get them out. And now Roxy was stuck with them, in the middle of nowhere, in sodding France, for two weeks at most Merlin had said, but when was this job ever predictable.Or Roxy tries to get gossip out of Eggsy about how he had Harry finally got together and might accidentally-on-purpose suggest a threesome.





	1. Côte d'Azur

**Author's Note:**

> This the first fanfic I've ever written!
> 
> Roxy/Eggsy isn't my usual pairing but it seemed easier somehow to come at Harry/Eggsy from an outsiders perspective and this is where I ended up. I have a few ideas for the over the desk shag Eggsy mentions in this so if you'd like to read that let me know!
> 
> Comments etc. welcome.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was meant to be a basic recon mission but the number of active lines of inquiry meant that Roxy, Eggsy and Harry were all on the ground at once when everything went tits up. Their covers are blown and they have to make a mad dash in the middle of the night to an airfield for Merlin to get them out.

The nearest safe house is in the south of France; a small white-washed cottage, surrounded by a grove of trees, sheer cliff on one side and no-one around for miles. It being the middle of August Roxy supposes they might as well make a holiday out of it and there are worse places to be stuck for two weeks. She had, of course, already memorized the exit routes, drop points and access codes and spoke in low, insistent French to the woman who nominally still owns the place and lets them in before heading back to her own home 20 miles away.

 It’s still dark when they arrive, too weary from their flight out of Berlin to do much more than just fall into bed; Roxy in the double room with en-suite and Harry and Eggsy sharing the twin room next door. And wasn’t that interesting. Eggsy had surveyed the small cottage with an air of apprehension and an entirely unsubtle glance at Harry from under his lashes before looking at Roxy and mumbling, ‘Ladies choice, innit.’ Roxy had taken pity on them and selected the double room so they could share with all the plausible deniability in the world.

 Although, frankly it was insulting they thought she hadn’t worked it out by now. On a mission, they were as professional as you like but back at HQ they’d lean into each other, eyes going soft and voices dropping on some in-joke or other. It was a good look on Eggsy; something like contentment, the hard lines of his jaw, the wariness around his eyes relaxing when he was safe in Harry’s presence. At first, she had assumed he was responding to a reliable father figure, a mentor, security he had never had with his step-father. But Harry wasn’t reliable really. Unpredictable enough to have reached his 50s in a job like theirs and easily the most dangerous person Roxy had ever met. Under his relatively affable exterior was a steely resolve and ruthlessness Roxy assumed they’d all gain eventually. But Eggsy loved expansively, joyfully. She saw it in the way he spoke about his sister, the affectionate way he teased even _Merlin_ and the easy familiarity he had fallen into with her. She couldn’t pin point exactly what it was about Harry Eggsy was drawn to. He was fit, she supposed, in a silver fox kind of way but radiated such a clean neutrality it was a wonder Eggsy had found a crack in Harry’s armour to worm his way through but once he had found it she had no doubt he would fill all the dark spaces in Harry with his bright smile and easy laughter.

No, Harry was what interested Roxy. They were more alike. A generation or so apart but from similar upper class backgrounds and Roxy recognized with faint distaste the way Harry worked with the same efficient detachment she saw in herself. Maybe Harry needed the mellowness Eggsy brought to his life. Or maybe he needed a reminder of the tenets of Kingsman, to protect, to ultimately do good for the world; missions always seem to cost Eggsy something and they could all do with reminding that what they did mattered outside of getting the bad guy or some warped sense of glory.

She had watched them circling each other for so long now. Between Harry’s ‘death’ in Kentucky and the aftermath of V-Day, training and missions she thought that what they had arrived at must be relatively recently consummated as they had suddenly begun to hold each other at a distance, enforcing a remove that spoke volumes more than a continuation of their usual casual intimacy would have done. There would be questions, of course. Kingsman had a, frankly overworked, HR department, just like any other organization. What with Harry being Eggsy’s boss and the rather backward opinions of most of the old guard who would balk over the fact that Harry and Eggsy were two men long before they considered the near 30-year age gap between them. Roxy rather suspected Merlin was giving them this as a sort of grace period before he had to pull rank and force them into, the Head of HR, Karen’s, office. They had time to get it out of their systems if it was only going to be a brief sort of affair burning hot and bright before fizzling out into either seething resentment or comfortable friendship. She rather thought not. Eggsy’d been regarding Harry with a look only acceptable on puppies from day one and Harry was not much better. His face when Eggsy entered a room could only be described as fond, which didn’t sit right on his usually stern demeanour, and honestly it was probably a sign he was going soft in his old age. And now she was stuck with them, in the middle of nowhere, in sodding France, for two weeks at most Merlin had said, but when was this job ever predictable.

As she lay alone in the massive double bed that first night, listening to the low murmur of their voices through the wall and then silence, the adrenaline of having ballsed up a mission but still getting out alive mellowed into the anxiety of enforced solitude, underscored by the possibility that the mission could conceivably kick off again at any moment but probably wouldn’t. Would it be worse, Roxy thought, to spend two weeks with them shyly avoiding each other for her benefit or to be running into them snogging all over the place? The cottage only had two bedrooms, a kitchen-dining area and a sort of small pantry. There wasn’t exactly anywhere to hide and they couldn’t go far outside until Merlin confirmed they hadn’t been followed from Berlin. Maybe she should just up front it. Tell them that she knows and they don’t have to pretend in front of her, at least not here. But Harry’s older than her father and her boss and the idea of looking him in the eye and letting him know she knows he’s shagging her best friend makes her flush all over.

 And Eggsy, for all his bravado in other areas has always been strangely sweet and shy about sex on the rare occasions it’s come up. Not like her brothers, boys like Charlie who she grew up with, who are always ready to boast about conquests and talk up their prowess at the drop of a hat. They’d got drunk at HQ once, her, Eggsy and Charlie, before their final few tests. Merlin had moved them from the utilitarian dorms to a room in the mansion proper. Still a bit institutional, four single beds, individual lockers but there’d been an en-suite bathroom and carpets on the floor, the walls covered with tasteful art like the kind found in hotels. Merlin had given them a significant look, told them they had the night off and left them to it. Eggsy found a bottle of whisky in one of the lockers and expressed mild distrust that this was another of Merlin’s tests and they’d be kicked out if they woke up the next day with hangovers. Charlie had just snagged the bottle from Eggsy’s loose grip, called them pussies and flung himself down on one of the beds, like a challenge.

 Roxy knew what to say to seem game, not let the side down without compromising too much of herself as they got progressively drunker and the conversation turned lewder. Eggsy’s cheeks had gone a pleasant shade of pink, his eyes shiny and amused, sharing looks with Roxy as Charlie went on and on about some girl he’s shagged on a yacht in Capri. Then Charlie’s eyes had gone devious and he’d rounded on Eggsy, ‘come on then Eggy, what sort of job centre slags did you manage to pull? Even with your miniature prick those girls should be well easy, right?’ Honestly, did he have to be so immediately and uncompromisingly cruel? The tosser.

 Maybe Eggsy’s reticence had been because he was already head over heels with Harry or simply didn’t want to share this part of himself with Charlie of all people not that she has any right to know about the intricacies of his relationship with Harry, beyond a latent desire for gossip and to be able to say I told you so to Merlin. They don’t owe anyone an explanation but surely he could share something of this with Roxy. In this sort of job, layering so many aliases over yourself, drawing lines in the sand to keep yourself alive leaves little time for intimacy, platonic or otherwise, but holding another agent’s life in your hands, working with them from the good to the bad, sometimes walking through literal shit does bring you closer so maybe she can ask this of Eggsy. An appeal for honesty in their life full of lies.

 

The next morning Eggsy is sprawling on the sun lounger with no shirt on and Harry is at the wrought iron table on the veranda with coffee and orange juice and the morning paper and the look of a man who is studiously ignoring Eggsy’s blatant attempt at provocation. He’s never subtle and maybe around Harry, with no one watching, his shyness evaporates.

‘Good morning, Roxanne,’ says Harry, glancing up from his paper, ‘can I offer you some coffee, croissants?’

‘Mornin’, Rox,’ puts in Eggsy, making no move to shift from his indolent slouch. His eyes are darting between Roxy and Harry, daring.

He wants me to say something, Roxy thinks, possibly just to annoy Harry. Like this is a secret he’s been holding closely to himself and now he has the excuse of proximity and paper thin walls to blurt it out. Roxy wonders if this desire to show off is a boy thing or just something about the boys she’s known. She thinks he’s asking for permission, though, and not from Harry. From her.

‘I really wouldn’t mind, you know,’ she says apropos of nothing because she’s not dealing with this for two weeks with no one else to talk to and Roxy is nothing if not straightforward. Harry should appreciate the unflinching honesty at the very least, ‘if the pair of you took the double room. It hardly seems fair to make you try to work out how to fuck on one of those tiny beds.’

The response is immediate and intensely gratifying. The raw power of uttering the word ‘fuck’, in that context, to your boss and his lover at 7.45 in the morning is something Roxy will endeavour to do more often from now on. Eggsy flushes that pleasing shade of pink which suits him so well and all but _crows_ at Harry, ‘I told you she’d worked it out, Haz.’

‘Yes, well,’ says Harry in response, returning Roxy’s gaze firmly but there is amusement there and the very tips of his ears have gone red, ‘that’s very kind of you Roxanne but that won’t be necessary.’

‘But, Harry,’ this in a wheedling tone from Eggsy who really ought to train himself out of that before people start assuming all sorts of things about him and casting aspersions over Harry’s ability to keep his boy in line. The look Harry levels him over the frames of his glasses leaves very little to the imagination and Roxy briefly thinks that everyone being on the same page is worse than feigned ignorance but Eggsy just laughs and Harry’s face creases into a grin so painfully fond Roxy might be sick. Maybe she can admit, if only to herself, what an attractive picture they make together.

‘As touched as we are by your apparent approval of our relationship I’m afraid I’ve had word from Merlin this morning that although your covers were blown I managed to slip through the net. I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t believe I was associated with two bright young things such as yourselves but here we are. I’m back to Berlin shortly to finish up but you will have to stay here. You’ve lots to catch up on, I’m sure.’

 

Harry leaves just after lunch and Eggsy and Roxy spend the rest of the day pointedly _not_ talking about it. Eggsy sits reading some painfully obvious novel he’d borrowed from Harry – A Single Man, honestly – and Roxy allows herself the rare indulgence of working on her tan in the glorious sunshine. There’s brief discussion of heading down the cliff path to have a swim in the sea but if they really have two weeks of this they might as well succumb to the opportunity to do _fuck all._ Eggsy makes dinner, delicious, and Roxy’s all ready to tease him until she realises he probably learned because he had to spend so much time caring for Daisy. Time trots by quickly and they end up curled in Roxy’s bed, giggling, after too much wine because there’s no living room in this cottage and the mood definitely calls for some kind of sleepover cliché. Roxy’d destroy Eggsy in a pillow fight. The room is lit by a single lamp, plugged in on the floor in the corner of the room. They’re pressed close, spooning in the middle of the bed so Roxy doesn’t have to look Eggsy in the face when she breathes, ‘so how’d it happen then? With you and Harry?’

Eggsy huffs a laugh against the back of her neck, ‘why, you jealous?’

‘No, just you’ve been smitten with each other for so long I wondered how you’d actually got to it.’

‘Harry doesn’t do smitten,’

‘He does for you. Even Merlin says so,’

‘You talk to Merlin about us?’

‘Only when a meeting takes an extra half an hour because you’ve been eye-fucking across the table and weren’t paying attention.’

Eggsy scrapes his teeth on the top knob of her spine in punishment for that but quickly soothes it with a kiss.

‘We didn’t think anyone had noticed,’ he says quietly.

‘Nobody thought _you_ had noticed. It took you long enough. When was it? _Where_ was it? You can tell me that at least.’

‘About three and a half months ago. In Harry’s office. I was getting sick of it, right? All these looks he was givin’ me. Touching my arm or my shoulder a little too long. Always calling me ‘darling boy’ when no one else were around. Like I was his already. Like he knew I’d been his from the start. But never doing anything about it. And he’s the boss, yeah? There must be rules. I couldn’t image doing anything without knowin’, proper like, that he’d be into it.’

‘But…,’ puts in Roxy. She can feel his dick now, pressed against her arse, not really hard but not quite soft either as he gets into the story. She finds she doesn’t really mind.

‘Well, we’d had a tough day. Mission complete by the skin of our teeth and he was goin’ on about protocol and how I couldn’t just march off guns blazing ‘cos I had a hunch. A hunch that turned out to be right, mind. And we got to his office and his suit was a bit fucked up and his hair was all a mess. He looked fuckin’ gorgeous, Rox. And he was so angry. Then I realised he was mad ‘cos I’d put myself in danger, not givin’ a shit about his authority or hierarchy, and the thought of losin’ me had made him lose control. I wondered how else I could make him lose control. If I could get him to shut up.’

It was a bit rich, Roxy thought, given how much of a maverick Harry was even by Kingsman standards. She’d never been more afraid than seeing Harry on the first mission they’d worked together. Even Merlin couldn’t really keep him in line.

‘So, what did you do?’

‘I sidled up to him, all cocky like, and I said, “we’re still here, Harry, I’m still here, I’m fine. I think you should take me to bed so I can prove it” and he grabbed me by the front of my jacket, snogged me within an inch of my life.’

‘Then what?’

‘He fucked me over his desk, obviously.’

Roxy snorts, ‘I bet he fucks like he fights, does he?’

‘Not really, it’s more like adoration. Like he can’t believe he got me into his bed. As if he isn’t fit as fuck himself. No less efficient, though.’

The conversation keeps taking them by turns through amusement and arousal. Like Eggsy is aware of how ridiculous this all is but is too turned on by thoughts of Harry to care. His dick is properly hard now, pressed against a warm body and thinking of Harry. Roxy shifts her hips back slightly, a question. Eggsy smiles into her hair, presses a kiss to the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

‘I’d have to ask Harry,’ he whispers.

Roxy moves, back still to his chest but hips shifting so they’re side by side on the mattress, a de-escalation. She looks up into his guileless eyes, smiling, ‘and what would he say?’

‘Dunno, don’t think he’s had sex with a woman except for work since he was about 35. He might let you watch. Or he might watch us,’ he’s regarding her seriously but there’s amusement there. This could all be forgotten by morning. She smiles, presses a kiss to his mouth, long and certain but just lips, no tongue, ‘well then, you’ll just have to ask him.’

She slips out of bed and across the room to switch off the lamp. Eggsy welcomes her back into his arms and they fall asleep, windows open to the sound of the sea below.

 

In the morning, Roxy wakes with a red wine headache alone in the bed. She can hear Eggsy clattering about in the kitchen and resigns herself to the fallout of suggesting a threesome with your best mate and his boyfriend, _your boss_ , in lieu of actually just directly shagging your best mate in the meantime. This job really has shifted all her morality into a grey area six foot to the left of seriously fucking messed up. Time to face the music. Which happens to be Eggsy dancing about the kitchen, singing along to Elton John coming from the tinny speakers of his iPhone. Really, Harry is a terrible influence.

‘Mornin’, Rox, I’ve made eggs,’ he says and they settle into their usual relaxed banter, last night forgotten or to be ignored, apparently.

‘What are you smirking at?’ Roxy asks in all innocence a little while later when they’re dithering on the veranda deciding what to do with their second day of enforced holiday. Eggsy looks up from his phone, ‘only Harry,’ he winks.

Oh. _Oh._

 


	2. Kensington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, bless him, has the good grace to look faintly scandalised when Roxy actually shows up at the mews four weeks and two point five other missions after they get back from France.

Harry, bless him, has the good grace to look faintly scandalised when Roxy actually shows up at the mews four weeks and two point five other missions after they get back from France. He does at least meet her eyes and Eggsy is behind him grinning like the cat that not only got the proverbial but has somehow also been promoted to chief taster at the cream factory.

Roxy had put on a dress that could only be described as business casual because what the fuck does one wear to a threesome with one’s boss and colleague/best friend. No bra though, it is a threesome after all. Harry is wearing a suit, looking exactly like every middle-aged woman’s wet dream, and fair enough, appraising him with the eye of someone about to fuck in front of him, he does wear it well. Eggsy is casual; tight white t-shirt, black jeans, smirk.

‘Good evening, Roxanne,’ says Harry, taking her coat, ‘can I get you a drink?’ his voice is pitched differently. Lower, smoother. Like he might as well be asking, ‘can I bend you over this desk and give you a proper seeing to?’

‘Thanks, Harry, G & T please.’

Harry busies himself across the room with the drinks making more noise than necessary ostensibly to give Roxy and Eggsy some privacy. Eggsy sidles up to her, sliding his hand into hers and squeezes.

‘OK, Rox?’ he asks.

‘Yeah, Harry really is alright with this, is he?’ she says dubiously.

Eggsy had gleefully told her over open comms during their latest mission, ‘oh Roxy, by the way, Harry said yes to the threesome!’ to which Merlin had exclaimed into her stunned silence, ‘fucks sake I am not paid enough to work with you feckin’ perverts!’

They’d talked properly back at the mansion of course and in abstract it was all terribly titillating but here, now, in Harry’s fussy living room she’s not so sure.

‘Harry said he’d love to watch us go at it. He’s not as young as he was but he has no problem getting it up, swear down, Rox, and you know what they say about older men and stamina. But he said something about our latest fitness test scores and putting all our endurance training to more pleasurable use. And I think it’d be hot. If I could do this for him. If we could do this for each other.’

Roxy was under no illusions as to her place in all this and frankly she was more than a little curious as to how Harry and Eggsy actually were with each other. When everything else was stripped away.

‘You’re OK with it, Rox? I mean all you’d be getting out of it is a shag, really. What if we can’t look each other in the eye after?’

‘I once watched you shit yourself in Marrakesh on that three day stake out, you’ve seen me change my tampon how many times and Harry and I once dispatched a ring of organ smugglers in nothing but our underwear, I think we’ll be OK after a shag.’

‘Alright then, if you’re sure…wait what’s this about Harry in his underwear?’

‘It’s a long story, Eggsy, maybe just ask Harry?’ It wasn’t that exciting, really. In reality they’d disturbed a booby-trap that had sprayed them with some nasty corrosive liquid which had begun making short work of even their bulletproof suits so they’d taken them off. Then they’d killed 30 truly abhorrent men in just under 15 minutes. OK, it was quite sexy when you thought about it and Harry _had_ looked good.

 

It had all been fairly academic back then. Now Harry was pressing a glass into her hand and smiling softly at Eggsy looking dangerous and fond and aroused all at once. God Eggsy really had shacked up with a dirty old man, hadn’t he?

‘Now, Roxanne, it’s probably for the best if you let us know what you’re expecting, what you like, dislike and so on as you are the, ah, rogue element here, so to speak,’ says Harry when they sit down, her and Eggsy on the sofa, Harry in an armchair like she’s Eggsy’s girlfriend he’s brought home to meet his father. And, really, that image could fuck right off.

‘We’s just gonna have a shag for you, Harry, ain’t that right?’

Harry and Roxy exchange incredulous eye rolls at that and crack up laughing to much indignant spluttering from Eggsy.

‘You’re a right charmer aren’t you,’ says Roxy while Harry puts in, ‘manners Eggsy, really.’

‘I had hoped,’ says Roxy slowly because she needs to bring this back somehow and they’ll never get anywhere if they can’t stop laughing at each other, ‘that you’d give us some _direction_ , Harry.’

She feels Eggsy start at her side and then settle back into the sofa. Harry’s eyes go dark and flit between them like he hadn’t really considered being an active participant in all this. For all everyone’s assumptions about them Eggsy is absolutely terrible at taking orders from Harry. Not when it really matters on a mission but generally he’s all sullen eye rolls and back chat and far too much of a show off for his own good. Now to be safe only Merlin or Percival handle him in the field, under the guise of conflict of interest, of course. His restless insolence when it comes to Harry is what finally got them together, Roxy supposes, but it would be interesting to see him doing what he’s told. Especially in pursuit of giving her pleasure.

‘Fuck me,’ says Eggsy like his dick and his brain and the scotch he’s been drinking have all finally arrived on the same page.

‘That’s my line,’ says Roxy turning to him and Eggsy looks her in the eyes, smiling his sunniest smile, which she returns, in confirmation, and then he’s kissing her.

In the weeks after they came back from France and Berlin and stopped trying to hide what everyone already knew she’s seen Harry and Eggsy kiss loads. When they know they’re being watched and when they think they aren’t, dozens of pecks on the cheek and careless smooches on the lips goodbye and one memorable moment she’d walked into Merlin’s office to find them necking on his desk as revenge for something. Honestly, despite appearances she isn’t in the habit of following them about to catch them at it. Eggsy has an exhibitionist streak a mile wide when it comes to Harry and all previous indications that he was a bit shy went out the window as soon as they’d started dating (I’d have a dirty chat with you, Rox, anytime, I just didn’t want Charlie getting all homophobic on me) and Harry, apparently unable to believe his luck, is seemingly incapable of saying no to Eggsy’s whims. Hence the situation Roxy currently finds herself in, sat on Harry’s Chesterfield, with one of Eggsy’s hands on her jaw, tipping her head back as he licks into her mouth with a smile. His other hand rests gently on her knee until Roxy shifts, fisting her hands in his shirt to pull him closer and his hand slides up thigh, hip, waist to pull her practically into his lap. They break apart to look at Harry who seems remarkably composed although he is leaning forward in his chair and watching intently.

‘Perhaps we might take this little party upstairs,’ he suggests.

Eggsy and Roxy look to each other before dissolving into giggles and quick kisses. They stand, Roxy kicking off her shoes, to follow Harry and there is so little dignity to climbing stairs with an erection but Harry Hart manages it with aplomb. Eggsy on the other hand simply steps behind Roxy pressing himself against her arse and crowds her up to the bedroom. They fall through the door, hands pawing rather ineffectually at each other’s clothes. Harry is already sat in a chair facing the bed, one leg resting on the other at the ankle. He’s lost his jacket and tie but otherwise is still fully dressed.

'On the bed,’ he says gesturing with the glass of scotch in his hand.

Eggsy goes easily pulling Roxy with him so they sprawl laughing on the sheets. Roxy finds herself cradled in the span of Eggsy’s hips and he reaches up to cup her cheek and pull her down for a kiss, all teeth and tongue, tipping them from one plateau of arousal to another. Laughing seems inappropriate now so Roxy shifts her hips to feel Eggsy’s hard-on pressed between them and he groans, throwing his head back for her to suck kisses into his throat.

‘Clothes off if you would,’ says Harry and Roxy thinks she can hear a hint of tension in his voice, the beginning of his control starting to unspool.

Eggsy sits up taking Roxy with him to pull his t-shirt over his head. Really his body is ridiculous. There’s a certain degree of fitness they all need to maintain but Eggsy takes it to another level. She allows herself a moment to look and Eggsy all but preens under her gaze.

‘Show off,’ says Harry, fond, and Roxy glances over to him, a look of indecent pride on his face that says _you might get to fuck him tonight, darling, but he’s mine._ Eggsy shimmies out from under her hips up on to his knees to reach behind her and pull the zip of her dress down, the silk pooling at her waist.

‘Shit, Rox,’ says Eggsy, hands hovering like he doesn’t know if he can touch. Is he waiting for her or Harry? His eyes flick between them so Roxy takes pity, leans forward, pressing her tits into his hands and kissing him again. He flicks his thumbs over her nipples and she gasps into his mouth, melting against him.

‘Go down on her Eggsy, make her come,’ says Harry and Roxy has never wanted Eggsy to follow an order faster. Eggsy pulls her dress up and off, throwing it to the floor and she swears she can see Harry twitch in her peripheral vision desperate to pick it up and put it on a hanger. Keep your head in the game man.

‘OK?’ says Eggsy, ‘on your back, Rox, there’s a good girl.’

She goes, easy, because as dangerous as these men are she’s never felt safer with anyone than here in this moment. Eggsy kisses up her thighs, a gentle scrape of teeth to make her shiver, pulls her pants down and off. He ghosts a breath over her pussy, tongue flicking out to lick gently at her clit till she squirms.

‘How wet is she for you, Eggsy? Use your fingers,’ says Harry distantly, voice deep as if he’s clenching his jaw with the effort of staying put. Eggsy looks up mouth wet and shining and she nods once, head spinning. She feels two fingers press into her where she’s soft and wet as Eggsy goes back to her clit with short laps of his tongue, winding her closer and closer to orgasm. Her hips moving in slow undulations, pressing into his face and down on to his fingers as he speeds up his motions and Roxy grips the short hair at the back of his neck arching almost totally off the bed as she comes.

Her ears are still ringing and Eggsy’s fingers are moving gently inside her as she comes back to herself smiling and pulls him up for a kiss. He still has his trousers on, cock trapped uncomfortably in the denim and she traces a palm over his dick making his hips buck into her hand. Harry is regarding her over Eggsy’s shoulder, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. He has both feet on the floor now and it’s too dark in the room to tell but he must be so hard she almost wants to stretch out her hand to ask him to join them. But that wasn’t the deal.

‘How do you want us?’ she asks instead.

‘Would you mind awfully going on top, Roxanne,’ says Harry like he’s just asked her to pass the sugar. How can he sound so composed up here when downstairs he was all smooth implications and filthy looks? That was the seduction she supposes. Now she’s a sure thing. Eggsy’s already moving round, off the bed, and taking his jeans and boxers off. His cock is nice, Roxy thinks, thick, a touch on the short side, flushed and dripping. He gets back on the bed and rolls a condom on with a louche wink and Roxy can absolutely see why you’d want this boy in your bed all the time, why Harry would want this. Built like a Greek god, cheeky but generous and expansive.

‘Hop on then, love,’ he smirks with a tug at his dick and that line would be appalling out of anyone else’s mouth but Roxy just rolls her eyes and throws one leg over his hips to sink down slowly. What a picture they must make for Harry, young and toned, smiling at each other, all youthful exuberance and desire.

‘Show me what you’ve got then, my darlings,’ says Harry, sprawled back in the chair now, hands pressed flat to his thighs, drink abandoned. They glance at each other in agreement and Roxy tips her hips forward, head thrown back, as Eggsy presses his hips up to meet her. Quick thrusts, using all that muscle Eggsy works so hard for, all that strength Roxy prides herself on, and Eggsy’s fingers will be gripping bruises into her hips, as they move together. She feels a drop of sweat running down her chest and Eggsy sits up to lick up the path it’s taken, changing the angle, grinding up into her in tight little screws. He’s close, she can feel his rhythm faltering and he’s chanting low in this throat, ‘fuck, fuck, fuck, Rox, that’s it, so good’ but Harry’s voice cuts across them, one last demand.

‘Make her come again, Eggsy.’

So Eggsy shifts, pulls off a showy little flip, making the most of his gymnastics training even here, and she’s on her back again as he thrusts hard over her, catching her clit on every up stroke. She pulls her legs up and wide, truly letting go of any shame for the first time, lets her second orgasm build slowly, creeping pressure spreading across her whole body from her hips until she tips over the edge, moaning. Her legs fall round Eggsy’s thighs as he follows her down, coming in stuttering jerks of his hips, pressing sweet kisses all over her face.

They lie together sweating and sticky, eyes closed, breaths coming in harsh pants for a moment then Roxy feels Eggsy move, opens her eyes and Harry is with them, naked on the bed, honestly just as beautiful as Eggsy’s always said he was, Roxy could never quite see it before. Harry smiles at her and it’s so open and honest it almost hurts her to return it. He kisses her then, a deep press of lips and tongue, but brief and he’s turning back to Eggsy who welcomes him with the filthiest kiss she’s ever seen and a murmured, ‘what do you want, babe?’ Roxy doesn’t hear Harry’s response but Eggsy is already moving down the bed between his thighs.

 

She gets up, leaving them to this private moment, suddenly embarrassed at the thought of seeing Harry come. She grabs Eggsy’s t-shirt and her pants, slips from the room to piss and snag the cigarettes from her coat pocket before stepping out the French windows in the sitting room and on to the balcony, lighting up as she sits down on the little bench there. It’s rained since she arrived, the cobbled street of the mews shiny orange in the street lights, but still warm. She aches sweetly all over, will be feeling the twinges of the well-fucked for days to come.

Harry comes out of the bedroom first, back in his trousers and shirt, but looking as fucked out as she feels. He smiles at her but it’s from a distance, locking himself away again.

‘Do you need anything?’ he asks, sitting next to her.

‘No. Thank you. You know. For sharing him.’

‘He isn’t mine to share.’

‘No, but you know what I mean.’ She offers him her cigarette, he takes it.

‘Yes, we are all lucky to have him, me especially, one doesn’t expect to meet the love of one’s life at my age.’

Eggsy appears at that moment in just his boxers, hair wet from the shower. ‘Oi, you two talking about me?’ he settles between them on the bench pulling Roxy’s legs onto this lap, leaning into Harry.

‘Stay, Rox,’ he says, ‘have a shower, sleep with us, actual sleeping that is.’

‘You’re alright, I’d rather head home.’ She takes her cigarette back from Harry, draws on it slowly before stubbing it out on a conveniently placed flower pot, Eggsy was meant to have quit.

They all stand, Eggsy draws her into a kiss but chaste this time. She half expects Harry to shake her hand but he presses a kiss to her cheek instead.

‘Don’t mind me, I’ll see you Monday OK?’ she heads back into the house, alone, puts her dress back on, grabs her coat and shoes. She allows herself one last glance at Harry and Eggsy, wrapped up in each other on the balcony, before everything goes back to how it used to be but just as she’s about to go downstairs, Harry turns, catching her eye and _winks_. OK, so maybe not exactly like it was before.

 


End file.
